


"Siblings?"  "Ja, ok, Geschwister, Ja."  Or Caleb and Beau are doing their best.

by DarkHorseAsh



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Autistic Beau, Autistic Caleb Widogast, Beau has a heart, Beau is trying, Beau will protect Caleb or die trying (I promise she Won't die), Beauregard & Caleb Widogast Friendship, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Coming Out, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Relationship, nott is stupid sometimes, therapy cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHorseAsh/pseuds/DarkHorseAsh
Summary: Beauregard has never had a brother, before.  She doesn't count the one back home who she's never met, because she's never had to Do anything for him.  Caleb Widogast has never had a sister, and he doesn't have a home to have a sibling at.  Together, they're doing their best to get by.





	1. When Yasha Knows, and Caleb doesn't Want her to

**Author's Note:**

> This is *not* going to be in order, I'm just starting with this one for the hell of it at this point. The next chapter will probably be much earlier on, but inspiration hit for this one and I couldn't stop it lol. Imagine if Beau and Caleb had heard Nott being an *idiot* and telling yasha about Caleb's backstory, basically, and you have this fic as the aftermath. I hope you enjoy! PLeeeeeease give me ideas for other oneshots you'd like to see of these two!

When Beau had heard Nott telling Yasha about Caleb’s family, she had been very, very tempted to walk over and grab the goblin by her scruff and shake some sense into her.  She knew Nott wasn’t having a good week,  _ everyone  _ knew Nott wasn’t having a good week, but that was absolutely no excuse to go spilling someone else’s life secrets.  What made it worse was that, when her eyes flicked over to Caleb, she saw the way he had gone very still in the darkness, the absolute terror in his eyes, and she  _ knew  _ he’d heard.  But Beau, for all her impulsivity, was not an idiot and she was acutely aware that grabbing Nott by the scruff was probably a bad idea at this moment in time and so she waited.  Pulling Caleb aside and making sure he was alright was probably a more reasonable right-now activity, but there was no way to do that without everyone seeing and making a big deal out of it and that was probably his worst nightmare, and so Beauregard waited.  She waited, through the whispering chasms and the general misery, until they bedded down for the night and she gave a brisk “I’ll watch with you” when Caleb volunteered to go in the middle. Fjord glanced over with confusion; apparently her reaction was considered somewhat more strong than normal, but at that point, Beau didn’t  _ care.   _

 

She woke to a hand touching her shoulder and almost punched the figure in the face, before she realized who it was looking down at her.  “Hey man. Our turn to watch?” Caleb gives a tiny nod and walks back to his area up against the rock face, curling his knees to his chest and looking so small and afraid that she just wants to pull him into her arms and/or punch Nott in the face.  Probably both, if she was being completely honest. “Cay?” His eyes flicker to her face and he almost seems to shrink away under her gaze, and beau sighs. She crosses the small campsite and settles at his side, resting her head on his shoulder and ignoring his harsh flinch.  “I know you heard Nott before, Caleb. Don’t even try to lie, man, I’m not blind.” Caleb slumped a little and she let him just lean into her side, waiting for a few minutes before daring to run a hand through his hair and though he tensed, he didn’t lean away. “I’m not one to make someone talk, but if you  _ want  _ to talk I’m here Caleb.”  

 

Beau wondered, sometimes, when the last time anyone had  _ cared  _ what Caleb had thought was.  She had a bad feeling that if anyone ever had it had been a very long time, and so she just sat and rested a hand on his shoulder.  She wasn’t sure how long it had been, and she didn’t want to ask Caleb, but her shoulder was starting to ache by the time Caleb shifts against her side again.  “It, Nott, I don’t, why would she do that?” His voice was tiny and Beau’s desire to grab Nott just increased. “I don’t know, man. I don’t...I don’t think she did it to hurt you, and I know that doesn’t really make it better.  I think she’s just...having a rough time of it and not really thinking about anyone but herself.” Beau knows that doesn’t, and  _ shouldn’t,  _ mean much; she’s watched Caleb in the midst of what was clearly a really awful ptsd episode comfort Nott, protect her with his life, lie through his teeth even as his hands shook and she  _ knew  _ he was watching the world burn so she would be safe.  How could the shivering human at her side  _ possibly  _ grasp that he would do everything for Nott at his worst and she would do this at hers?

 

“Danke.”  Caleb breathes into her shoulder, and she’s not entirely sure what she’s being thanked for.  “It’s cool, man. You want a hug?” Caleb stiffens again, and Beau vaguely wonders if she can convince him to let her punch Trent in the face if she ever sees him again.  At this point, she wants to do it whether he says yes or not, but Beau’s recently decided to try and do her absolute best to not  _ make  _ Caleb do things without making sure he wants to, first.  She’d spent her entire life with people making her do things, and she’d seen the look on Caleb’s face everyone gave something close to an order; the thin man would just freeze any sort of fight and go with it.  It was clearly a traumatized response and Beau was a little confused on how the others, minus Caduceus who saw  _ everything,  _ hadn’t realized how often Caleb let things happen that he didn’t want.  

 

Now, though, he nodded, shifting sideways to nestle his head into her shoulder before she even had an arm around him.  It’s a bit of an awkward position, so Beau slowly draws him into her lap, leaving plenty of time for the man to protest, but he just loops an arm around her side and clings.  There, in the darkness of a place that none of them are even  _ close  _ to safe, Beau wraps her arms around her brother and holds him.  It’s been a long time since Beau had  _ been  _ held, and she was pretty sure she’d never even come close to holding someone and now, as Caleb shook and quivered in her arms, she was vaguely terrified she was doing it horribly wrong.  Beau didn’t speak, too worried she would inevitably stick her foot in her mouth if she did. It felt like a long time before Caleb quieted, head still tucked awkwardly into her shoulder as he stiffened against her grip with a soft “I am….sorry, Beauregard.”  Beau sighs, shifting to look him in the face even though she knows neither can really see down here. “Listen, man, I don’t  _ mind.   _ I’m not cruel, I’m not gonna leave you hurting alright?  I care, dude, and I know you care about us, too, no matter how much you want to deny it.”  This time, at least, he  _ doesn’t  _ deny it, just sort of shuffles closer to her chest, stiff as a board.

 

“Listen, dude, I’m not going to make you move.”  She sighs awkwardly; why couldn’t Caddy be awake, he was _so much_ better at this shit than she was she was just going to mess it up and hurt both of them and she could take it, but she was terrified that Caleb couldn’t _take_ much more hurt.  He was like a broken doll in her arms, fractured and terrified, and it was as if one more breath of air on his back would throw him to the floor and shatter him.  She doesn’t move, just lets him decide what to do, and Caleb slumps back into her chest with a little whimper. “I. She is. My first friend.” Beau hums, not having to ask _who_ Caleb was speaking about.  “I know man, and I know it sucks to feel like your trust has been betrayed so bad, especially on something like _that.”_ Caleb shifts his head and she doesn’t have to wait for him to say it but she still does.  “How?” He questions aloud, a soft hesitancy in his voice but more of it's usual curiosity than before, so she considers it a win.    
  
“I had a friend, Thomas.”  She explains, and she feels him shift to listen.  “I uh, I told him. That I like girls.” She’s lying and she doesn’t expect to feel quite as guilty as she does but she’s _shocked_ when she blurts out, “No, that’s a lie.  I didn’t. That’s not what I told him. I uh...I told him.  Something personal.” She can’t make herself say it and she’s about to force herself when a shaking hand shifts to wrap around hers and concerned eyes lock onto hers.  “Beauregard, you don’t have to tell me.” His voice is soft, and she nods, leaning a little further into his grip as he props himself up so he’s sort of holding her, too, in an awkward sort of hug.  “I uh, anyway, he...he got mad at me, because I didn’t wanna like, do him, and I got home one day to find him telling my parents. What I told him.” She can feel her own muscles starting to shiver and forces herself to stop, tucking herself a little closer to Caleb, who is still shaking at her side.  “I don’t know man, I’m just trying to say...I’m here for you, ok? Whatever she or anyone else does. And what she did was _not_ ok.  She invaded your privacy, she put Yasha in a terrible position, and she said something I’m sure you didn’t want someone else to be sharing.  You’re allowed to be upset; that doesn’t make you a bad person, I don’t think. Hell, what do I know. I’m a bad person.” She shrugs, tightening her grip as she feels Caleb start to shake again, and leaning back against the wall to close her eyes.

 

She wakes up with a lapful of Caleb and a warm, fuzzy hand resting against her foot.  She jerks up, surprised that the sudden movement doesn’t waken Caleb, and blinks up into Caduceus’s eyes.  “My apologies, Miss Beau, I just wanted to tell you that I think our friends will be waking up soon and I think Mister Caleb would rather not deal with the...questions the others would ask if you were to be found like that.  I must say, it is...good to see someone else worrying about Mister Caleb.” Beau nods, deciding that shaking Caleb was  _ probably  _ a bad idea and instead rubbing her cold hand over the back of his neck until he jerked awake.  “Hey man, ‘s morning, ‘cording to Caddy. There’s breakfast, I think.” Caleb gave a tiny smile, and Beau was surprised at how good it felt to see such little terror on his face for a moment before he hardened again.  “Danke, Schwester.” Beau squeezes his hand for a moment before standing and pulling him up and into a gentle headlock with a teasing grin. “Anytime, man. I mean it. Anytime. And just...remember what I said, yeah?”  Caleb nods, moving to take his bowl of food from Caduceus with a small smile. “I will...do my best, Beauregard. Perhaps we both will.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of this tweet: https://twitter.com/Wally_Wests/status/1140906744366809088
> 
> Beau doesn't know why she has the chill creeping down her spine at a little past midnight on a fairly normal day in Xhorhaus, but she can't make it go away. And so she sits up and reads a book and waits, until Caleb's trauma once again rears it's ugly head.

She’s not even really supposed to be awake.  If the sky above hadn’t been entirely dark, Beau probably would have seen the moon at its peak, starting back down towards the ground. She figured it was probably around midnight, maybe a little after, and for one sleep-deprivation-fueled moment of impulsion she considered going to ask Caleb, since he knew  _ exactly  _ what time it was every moment of every day.  She didn’t, though; his room was silent, as far as she could tell, and she just hoped that meant the idiot was finally, finally, sleeping.  She’d dragged him back to his room a few hours before, when he’d stumbled down into the kitchen as pale as a ghost with deep black bags under his eyes and hands shaking too hard to hold a cup.  He was clearly exhausted, which had been made all the more clear because he didn’t even really fight her when she told him to go to bed.

 

The storm had started over an hour ago, and Beau had decided that she could  _ totally  _ say that was keeping her up instead of the cold chill of worry running down her back.  She had no idea why she was worried; she’d eaten dinner with the others only a few hours ago, and not even Nott at her most desperate would have been stupid enough to rome a somewhat hostile city at night, but she couldn’t stop the worry from eating at her soul and so she settled down with a book and a pen and just sort of waited for  _ something  _ to happen.  

 

Now, she sits with a book on demons in Deep Speech propped open on her lap, taking notes in common with one hand as she flipped with the other.  Caleb apparently  _ didn’t  _ speak Deep Speech, and she knew that he desperately was hoping to learn more about the sort of abyssal entities they were fighting recently, so she figured this book might have some tips.  It wasn’t terribly interesting, so she was starting to doze off when a sharp noise drew her to her feet at once. It was something like a scream that was choked off on in milliseconds so it turned more into a choking gasp.  For a moment she thinks it was a one off, and then it happens again, and again, and again. 

 

She knows who it is, has been woken  _ many  _ nights by this sound.  Caleb never screams, not fully, never lets himself risk that.  Instead he made desperate sounds that hurt even  _ beau’s  _ carefully guarded heart because the man just sounds incredibly desperately  _ resigned  _ to it.  His cries don’t sound scared, not really, they just sound incredibly pained and there’s a deep note of knowledge that it wasn’t going to change resting within his whimpers.  Beau lets it go on for another moment, standing paralyzed beside her desk. “He’d be embarrassed if he woke up and I was there.” she decides, trying to force her eyes back to the book that now rests on the desk.  “It’ll stop in a minute, it usually does, he’s always fine. If he’s not, Nott will go to him,” she soothes herself aloud, but two screams later and she  _ can’t  _ anymore.  

 

“He’ll be mad if they wake up because of him.  He’d want me to wake him up.” She decides aloud as she slips silently into his room.  She’s not  _ entirely  _ sure she’s right, not even close, but she can’t listen to her...friend’s whimpering gasps.  “Hey, Cay, wake up man, you’re alright.” She soothes aloud, but she’s not surprised when he doesn’t move.  “Caleb, c’mon dude.” He flinches slightly, rolls away from her, and she moves ever closer, reaching out a hand slowly but pausing, entirely unsure of where to place it.  

 

Contrary to what many thought, Beau  _ knew  _ she was awful with people.  Her teeth dug into her lips as she glanced around with wide eyes, entirely unsure of what to do.   She rests her fingers on his hip as he jerks again, and apparently this is exactly the  _ wrong  _ thing to do because instead of waking up or doing  _ something  _ positive, Caleb lets out a blood curdling scream and hurtles himself away from her, which means he launches himself straight into the wall.  Beau yanks her hand away instantly but it doesn’t seem to matter; Caleb is  _ conscious,  _ now, but his eyes are wide and unseeing and there’s fire dancing on his fingers and she moves before she really understands what she’s doing.

 

Beau’s touched Caleb more than most of them, except Nott, have.  He’ll rest his hand on her shoulder when he’s having a particularly bad moment, sometimes, or she’ll hold onto his hand when he looks through frumpkin, so she can signal something is wrong.  It’s that instinct that drives her now, as her fingers tighten on his and he goes still under them. “Caleb? You ok man?” She asks softly, keeping her grip on his shoulder tight. In the dim light of the room, she could just make out the terror on his face and the way his body grew frighteningly warm for a moment, before the shivering human slumped forward.  “J-ja, I am fine, Beauregard.” 

 

In truth, Beau does not at  _ all  _ believe that Caleb is in any way fine.  He’s shaking, and his fingers are still glowing red with the fire she knows that he  _ hates  _ and she just feels useless.  None of her lessons, not at home and certainly not with the monks, had taught her what to do when her traumatized _ acquaintance friend brother _ was curled up on a bed clinging to her hand and shaking himself apart.  But she also knows full well that if she says anything, he’ll probably bolt out of the room or curl up and shut down any refuse to talk to her and so she doesn’t.  Instead, Beau just rotates so she’s leaning up against the wall across from his little ball, keeping her hand firmly on his, and lets him sit there in quiet until the sun begins to rise.

 

Beau blinks back awake to the hand in hers shifting, and her eyes settle on the other figure’s dark eyes as she gives as close to a smile as she can.  “Morning man.” Caleb flinches down slightly, carefully removing his hand from hers and giving a tiny smile back. “Ja, good morning, Beauregard. I believe I smell Caduceus making breakfast?”  It’s clearly an attempt to get out of talking and Beau knows it, but she isn’t cruel enough to make him talk so she lets him do it. “Well, we better go then, before Jester eats all of it.” He stands and scoops his cat onto his neck before offering her a hand, which she takes with a smile.  


	3. Caleb can't sleep.  Beau is frustrated.

A week after the Mighty Nein moves into the house in Rosana, Beau hunts Caleb down in the library.  Over the past few months, she’d grown into something like a sibling relationship with the closed-off, nervous wizard, though she was pretty sure he hadn’t even realized it, and so when she didn’t see him leave the library for four days straight, she got nervous.  Beau had been the one to suggest Caduceus take the tower, so Caleb couldn’t entirely isolate himself from them, and the one to suggest Jester not paint his room without his permission, so she wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed to be avoiding it, and leaving the library, like the plague.

 

“Dude, what the hell?”  Beau asks aloud the moment she lays eyes on him.  Caleb turns, movements sluggish as he blinks up at her for a moment.  “Oh,  _ hallo  _ Beauregard.  Did you need something?”  Beau sized the man up, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the trembling of his hands, and cursed mentally.  Caleb looked  _ bad,  _ worse than he had looked since the first time they’d seen Trent, since Molly’s death, since those  _ things  _ had taken over his mind and almost burned them all alive.  Beau made a note to get Jester to teach her how to lie better, because right now all she could think to say was “just making sure you’re not dead, since you haven’t come out of here in at least 3 days and I haven’t seen Nott or Yeza go in or anything.

 

She pretends not to notice the hard flinch she gets when she mentions Nott and Yeza, or the way he looks over at the alchemy station for a moment with something between longing and misery on his face because the mask hardens and he turns back to her.  “I, ah, I am fine, Beauregard, I have been busy working.” Beau snorts, sending a look at the man and then around the small space, making it extremely clear she didn’t believe him. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate? C’mon man, you’re a person, you need food.”  She walks to the table, glancing down at the books on it before Caleb can grab them away and softening when she sees how many titles have Polymorph or Transfiguration in the titles.  

 

“C’mon dude, Nott wants you to fix her, but she doesn’t want you to die of stress and overworking yourself before you can.  I’m sure Caddy has food left.” she coaxes, gently, in a way she wouldn’t let herself do in front of anyone but the shivering human in front of her.  “I won’t let you have to talk to them, Cay, just get some food and some sleep, ok?” When he looks to be ignoring her and moving back towards the books, Beau takes action, moving well within his line of sight to firmly take his elbow.  “Caleb, I will buy you two new books if you go eat a decent meal and try to get some sleep.”  _ That  _ seems to be enough, as the taller man jerkily starts going back towards the kitchen, and Beau considers herself successful.

 

Except two days later, Nott stops her in the halls and asks if she has any idea why Caleb had agreed to a lab in the library if he was never going to unlock the door and let anyone in to  _ use  _ it, and Beau doesn’t have an answer except to say if she sees him, she’ll ask.  Then she walks to the outside of the house, scales the wall, and hops through the open window in the span of about two minutes, finding Caleb slumped in a plush chair looking frighteningly close to dead.  “Cay.” he glances up at her and she relaxes, since movement means he’s  _ not  _ dead.  “Dude, you look fucking awful.  I think you have about twelve hours till Nott bursts in here demanding to see you, and-” 

 

she doesn’t even get through the sentence as he scrambles to his feet and away from her, shaking his head rather desperately.  “Nein, nein, I am fine, I do not need her to do that.” His voice is sharp with terror, and Beau can’t help but take two steps forward to hold his swaying shoulders.  “Dude. Seriously. How long has it been since you got a night’s sleep?” Caleb doesn’t answer, but he leans into her hands in a way that makes him sort of heartbreakingly small, and that’s answer enough.  “Ok. You’re coming with me and I am getting your ass in a bed, got it?” She knows Caleb will see it as too much of an order to question it, but she also knows if she  _ doesn’t  _ make it an order he won’t do it so this time she ignores the part of her that feels awful for forcing him and gets him on his feet.  

 

She literally tucks Caleb into the bed, after helping him out of his coat and boots, since his hands were shaking too badly for him to be able to do it easily.  She expected him to fall asleep quickly, but even as she dumped him gently on the bed and tossed a blanket over him and settled down in his chair nearby to make sure he was ok, he lay awake, eyes mostly closed, stuttering breathing noises filling the air.  It goes on for over an hour before Beau gives up, because the only thing that’s happening is Caleb clearly working himself closer and closer to a panic attack, so she goes and sits closer to the bed. “Caleb, dude, you’re fine. Sit up, you’re alright.” The figure sort of uncurls and props himself against the headboard, hands shaking violently.  “I am sorry.”  

 

She’s pretty sure he doesn’t sleep, so she doesn’t either, just leans against the side of the bed with a hand on his wrist through the night until she can’t help but ask.  “Caleb?” He hums, low and aching, so she keeps going. “I don’t, you can tell me to shut up dude, but...why aren’t you talking to Nott?” He stiffens, leans away from her hand, and wraps an arm over Frumpkin.  “I, uh, um.” he hums nervously, and she sits silently and just lets Caleb go over the words in his mouth for a few moments before he speaks again and when he does, he’s very clearly choking on sobs he won’t quite let out.  “I, I miss her, I can’t, I have not slept alone in, in a very long time.” He stammers out, and he sounds so fucking  _ sad. _

The thing is, it makes sense.  Caleb and Nott had shared a room in every town since she’d met them, and every tent while camping.  They were always on watch together, and if they were sleeping she was curled on his feet or chest. In the bubble, he was  _ surrounded  _ by people.  But now, Nott had a husband back, and so of course she was with him.  Even on their Giant mission Nott had probably slept with Caleb, though Beau wasn’t entirely sure on that since she’d been a bit distracted by caring for an Ill Jester and the Giants and all.  

 

“Caleb.  You need to  _ talk to her _ .  Or talk to one of us.  But you can’t go on like this, dude.”  he doesn’t even try to disagree and that shows just how awful he’s feeling.  “Cay.  _ Talk to her,  _ man.  She loves you.” he flinches, but she keeps going, doing her best not to sound mad even though she’s been told she sort of constantly sounds mad.  “None of us want you to be hurting, ok man? Talk to me, if not to her.” Caleb makes a soft noise, hands flexing, and she can  _ see  _ how badly he wants to go find Nott.  “Would you like me to find her? I can.” 

 

She’s learned, over time, that part of getting Caleb to actually share an opinion on something of importance is to give him a moment to think about it.  In some ways, Caleb’s mind is two steps ahead and two back; he’s constantly thinking about what’s next, so much so that he forgets to think about the  _ now  _ of it, and about what people are actively saying.  So she lets him lay there for a moment, until he gives a very soft.  “J-ja. Please.” She pats him on the shoulder, stands, and sets off down the hall.  

 

Nott isn’t hard to find; she’s in her bedroom, reading, but she looks up with concerned eyes when he comes in.  “Hey, Nott. Are you busy?” The hope that she isn’t must show in beau’s voice because the little goblin looks up with a confused shake of her head.  “No; Fjord said the library door was open so Yeza went down to work on a potion so I was going to go there in a minute but I’m not busy. Why?” She questions in confusion, and Beau sighs.  “Caleb wanted to talk to you. He’s not...I don’t think he’s doing well.” The goblin’s face wrinkled in concern as she hopped off the low bed and scrambled down the hall towards Caleb’s room.  

 

Beau isn’t sure if she’s supposed to follow or not, but she decides to anyway, creeping after Nott as the goblin scrambles into Caleb’s room and up onto his bed to get face-to-face with the human, who is hunched in the corner with his arms around his knees as Nott hurries to his side.  “Caleb, what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” she demands, and Beau can see the edges of stress start to unwind from Caleb’s shoulders as he gives a brisk shake of his head. “Nein. I am...unharmed,  _ mein liebling. _ Danke, Beauregard.”  Beau took this as an ask for her to leave so she nodded and ducked out the door, deciding to go find something to hit very hard for a while.  

 

She comes back an hour later, ignoring the fact that she was definitely violating privacy as she peaked in the door, which was still slightly open.  Caleb was curled on his side, sleeping, wrapped entirely around the little goblin in his arms. Nott stiffened when the door opened, glancing up but relaxing once her eyes fell on Beau.  “Thank you” she called very softly, small hands holding onto Caleb’s bigger ones. Beau nods, turns to leave, and is stopped by another quiet call. “Hey, can you do me a favor.”  

 

Beau has been as bad as Caleb at bonding with Yeza, but she  _ did  _ appreciate how easily he took new things in stride, so when she led him, as asked, into Caleb’s room to where his wife was still curled up, now asleep, against the human, since Nott and Beau were pretty sure if she moved he’d start screaming, he just smiled a little.  “She hasn’t slept well, either. Since you guys got me back.” Yeza’s eyes were kind and Beau sort of felt bad for ignoring him for inadvertently hurting Caleb. “I’ll just, go sit by them, I think. I don’t want to make Mr.Caleb uncomfortable.” Beau watched quietly as the halfling moved to sit against the bed, reaching one short arm up to grip Nott and Caleb’s and decides if Caleb doesn’t figure out how much they like him, she’s going to punch it into him.  


	4. In which Beau is not ok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau has a meltdown. Caleb tries his best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it was time for caleb to be the person doing some comforting, even if he isn't entirely sure How to do so. I hope you all like this. If anyone has any prompts/ideas, please leave them in the comments!!!!

“Beauregard?”  Caleb peaked around the door of the inn room, scanning with careful eyes.  The rest of the party was downstairs, enjoying dinner and alcohol, but Jester had said Beau was still in their room.  “I, uh, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright?” The light in the room was low, and Caleb’s human eyes struggled for a moment before he made out a blanket in the corner of the room that sort of looked to be thrown over a figure.  Concern flared in his chest and he darted into the room, unable to not worry that Beau was hurt. “Beauregard? Are you alright? Jester said you were not feeling well?”  

 

Dull blue eyes peeked up over the edge of the blanket at him, and Caleb made a noise of worry when he saw the look in them.  “Beauregard? Would you like me to leave?” He would, if she asked him to; Caleb knew something about wanting to be alone, he could understand that.  He wouldn’t be surprised if she had, in the months since he met Beau he’d certainly learned that she valued being able to take care of herself. Even on the ship in the days just before this one, he’d been impressed at how few times a day he would see the monk versus how often he saw all of the others.

 

But instead of sending him away, Beau gave a sort of crooked jerk of her hand, something close to a “come here now” gesture, so he did, taking careful steps forward and dropping to a knee a few feet away.  “Beauregard?” he questioned again, watching nervously as the blanket pulled down and a sweaty, paler than usual face blinked out at him. “Are you alright?” It feels like a stupid question, now; Caleb isn’t always good at reading people but he knows enough about Beau to know she’s not, to know she’s  _ really  _ not if she’s letting him see.  “Do you need me to get one of the clerics?  I am sure Caduceus and Jester wouldn’t mind?”  A sharp, frantic shake of her head here as one of Beau’s hand’s darts up to press over an ear, fingers tapping frantically against the side of her head, and he understands.  

 

He doesn’t speak again; it won’t help, not now.  Instead he slips off his coat, grimaces at the feeling of the weight vanishing from his shoulders, but he persisted, creeping closer and offering it out.  The coat was his prized possession, beside his cat and his books. He’d made it almost as soon as he’d woken up in the asylum, weighing the pockets down with anything he could find and stitching over them to sort of keep the weights still, so they wouldn’t jingle as he moved.  Beau didn’t move to take it and so he sighed and set it down. He moved forward to rest a hand against her ankle, but Beau that was apparently  _ not  _ a good decision.

 

Beau yanked away with a howl, slamming her head and the hand that wasn’t pressed to her ear to the wall.  Caleb swore in furious Zemnian, cursing himself. He should have known better; it was almost precisely what  _ he  _ would’ve done if someone touched him without warning during a meltdown but he’d been so distracted he hadn’t seen the signs enough to realize not to and now Beau was going to  **hurt** herself if he didn’t do something.  Except, he’d never been on  _ this  _ side of it; Caleb had always been the comforted, not the comforter.  But in front of him, it was like his fingers had set off the powder-keg reactions that had been building; Beau was shaking hard, striking out at the wall every few seconds as her other hand dug into the side of her head.  

 

For a moment he was motionless, unable to understand where to move and then he surged forward, giving a soft “You are going to hate me for this.  And for seeing you like this. I am sorry.” He effectively shoved himself behind Beau, to at least keep her from hitting the wall, wrapping one arm loosely around her side and yanking the weighted coat over her lower body with the other.  He wasn’t exactly strong enough to restrain her and even if he was, Caleb wasn’t stupid; that would just make things worse. And so he waited, letting his body be a barrier for the blows that he was pretty sure had cracked his collarbone by the time Beau fell still against his chest, shuttering gasps filling the air.  One of her hands was still flapping weakly against his side, the other wrapped around her own side.

 

“Beauregard?” She gave a low whine, shifting against Caleb’s legs, and he tried not to hiss in pain; both his legs were asleep from the weight and the force of Beau’s head and free hand striking his shoulder had left him badly bruised and he was pretty sure something was broken.  Beau was still shivering against his side, post-meltdown tremors leaving her twitchy in a way Caleb understood too well. “Beauregard. Can you give me some sort of ah, sign that you have not severely damaged your brain?” She gave a low hum, the hand that wasn’t flapping reaching out to grasp his in a tight grip, and he nods, slumping against the wall with a stuttering sigh. 

 

Long moments passed.  Frumpkin was rubbing against Caleb’s leg, licking up the side of his leg.  Caleb shivered, wrapping his arms around his torso as best he could with Beau still effectively in his lap.  “Beauregard, ich liebe dich, but I, um, my legs are a little asleep.” They were more than a little asleep; Caleb wasn’t sure how long they’d been on the floor, but his legs were throbbing in pain that was sure to mean his own night was far from pleasant.  It was worth it, but it was still going to hurt. He shifts away slowly and she flinches hard. For a moment, Caleb considers leaving the room; he knows Beau won’t like that he’s seen her in a moment of what could only be severe weakness. But he can’t bring himself to do it, mostly because if it was him, he would  _ hate  _ someone leaving when he was weak and vulnerable and  _ alone.   _ The alone was always the worst, that could thread of misery that would taunt and creep and rip, snarl that no one wanted to deal with him, that he had no one.  He didn’t want to let Beau feel that, even if he had a sinking suspicion it wasn’t the first time she had.  

 

Beau moved as if drunk, pulling herself shakily to her feet with the coat around her shoulders.  Caleb leaned forward, eyes careful. “Beau, let me help. Please?” It took a few moments, but she nodded and Caleb slipped his arm around her side to help her up.  “Would you like to sleep in my room? Nott could distract Jester, I do not think I would like her level of energy after a meltdown. Beau gives a low hum of agreement so Caleb grabs her bag, and the one he’d left by the door, and together they stumble the few feet down the hall to his room.  Beau slumps to the bed, shivering a little before hauling herself higher on the bed and curling up in a ball. Caleb moved slowly, draping the coat entirely over the shivering monk before letting her be alone for a moment.

 

It was less than five minutes later when his attention was drawn back out of his book to Beau stumbling across the room to his bed.  Caleb made a noise of concern, but she was already at his side before he was able to get up. “Beauregard.” It felt like less of a question, this time, as she slowly clambered onto the bed, giving him an awkward look.  “You can. Stay. If you’d like.” His voice was tight and awkward, but Beau seemed to relax a little, curling on her side and dropping her head into his lap, wrapped into a little ball with the coat covering as much of her as it could.  Caleb’s movement stuttered, hand slowly dropping to run over her hair, fingers enjoying the feeling of the shorter section of her undercut. He dozed off like that, to the warmth of a body draped over his legs and the short, lovely-to-stim-with hair under his fingertips.  


	5. In which Beau doesn't want to go to a party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nein has been hired to protect a nobleman who is under threat of assassination at a party. Beau really, really doesn't want to go. She shows that in a very stupid way.

She stalks back to the inn with blood running down her face and bruises on hands that, for the first time in what felt like  _ weeks,  _ weren’t shaking.  Beau was careful that she came back late enough that no one would be awake; even if Molly or Nott had decided to initiate a drinking contest, it would have been over at least an hour ago.  She could slip upstairs and tape her damaged knuckles and the gashes on her shoulder and try to sleep off the worst of the bruises, so in the morning she could try to make Jester believe that the bruises were from the fight a few days before.  She was almost certain the tiefling wouldn’t buy it, but she had to at least try.

 

The inn was still brightly lit but Beau barely noticed, stumbling towards the stairs.  She was sure that she must be a mess; she hadn’t been able to clear any of the blood off of her face, really, and her hands were badly bruised and, though the girl barely noticed, were shaking horribly.  “Beauregard?” It took her a long time to move, slowly forcing her gaze up from the ground and to the figure sitting at a table in the corner, cat around his shoulders. “Caleb?” She asks incredulously, but the thin human boy is already moving towards her, eyes wide and concerned.  “Beauregard? Did you get jumped? Wat happened??” He looked her up and down, seeming to see something that just made him more concerned because his face shifted into a look of complete worry and he grasped her wrist, pulling her towards the stairs and then up and into his room, which was surprisingly empty.  “Nott es, down in the bar.” he explains softly. “Beauregard, please, sit, you are hurt.”  

 

    She can’t.  Beau paces around the room while Caleb stands near the door, one hand tapping nervously against his leg.  “I, um, I, Beauregard, please, sit down, you are going to fall over.” He moves to take her wrist and she flinches back, one bruised hand shooting up to defend herself, and he freezes, hands up,  _ not a threat not a threat not a threat _   “Beauregard.  Please. I can get Jester or Caduceus for you, but I don’t think you want me to so…please? If you fall and hit your head I’ll have no choice but to get them.”  She doesn’t want that, even through the haze of pain and anxiety surging through her she knows she doesn’t want to deal with the fussing she’d get. Caleb relaxed slightly as she slumped down onto the bed and he pulled out his own medical kit, calmly going to work washing the blood off of her hands.  “I am...did you, er, go looking for a problem or did they look for you?” Beau grimaces, ducking away from the other human for a moment, but there’s no judgement in his tone as he keeps going. “I, simply need to know if there are people we need to go kill in the morning or if you asked for it.” Beau snorts, shaking her head.  “I went lookin’ for it. Don’t kill anyone, Cay.” He nods, shifting to wrap her hands. “This will...not be as good, as the healers.” He warns, but she doesn’t really care so she just nods along.

 

Caleb was lost.  Beau looked...fragile, which was never a word he would use aloud to describe her, hands shaking, blood staining the loose tunic and pants she was wearing that he was pretty sure she’d stolen from Fjord, because they didn’t seem to fit right.  That brought its own questions, sure, but he didn’t feel like asking those at midnight when they had a  _ job  _ at a fancy party tomorrow and Beau was going to be too bruised to reasonably go...and that was when he got it.  

 

“You wanted it.”  Beau’s eyes flickered to his face, something hard in her gaze, but Caleb persists; he’s never been good at knowing when to stop.  “You didn’t, you looked upset before when we realized we had to blend in at the party tomorrow but you didn’t want to say anything, I don’t know why because I said I didn’t want to and so did Nott but you didn’t want to, and if you’re hurt you can’t pretend to be some rich person because rich people don’t have split knuckles and bruises.”   
  


He said it almost without pausing, so fast that Beau was both worried he didn’t get enough oxygen and had to take a moment to figure out what he was saying.  She tightened,wanting to find a way to say that no,that wasn’t the case, but this was Caleb looking at her with something in his eyes that said a lie wasn’t going to work hear so she went for something else; her favorite brand of brutal honesty.  “I don’t want to wear a dress. I won’t.” Her voice is sharp and angry and he wonders for a moment if that’s what she feels or if the point is to hide something else but he doesn’t have words toask that and he knows it so he doesn’t try. 

 

“I, I won’t, I can’t.” Her voice catches in her throat and she pauses, but he leans back against the walland gives her a moment to find them again.   _ Caleb knows something about words being hard  _ Beau reminds herself, forcing herself to think for a long moment.  “Jester was talking about how she couldn’t wait to go dress shopping with me and Yasha and Nott tomorrow and Nott sort of looked excited for once and Yasha didn’t seem like she minded too much but I don’t want towear a dress I  _ don’t. _ Her breath is sharp and desperate, and Caleb’s hand tightens on her’s as he lets a finger dig into the bruise on the underside of her wrist and she relaxes a little.  “I can’t let Jessie down.” He finishes the thought for her, which is a relief because she isn’t sure she has enough left to do it for herself. “So you thought you’d find an excuse to not go that she wouldn’t fault you for, maybe even one that she’d fuss over you for, because you won’t have to give her a reason.”

 

She goes quiet, after that, curls up with her head resting against Caleb’s knees. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t sleep; whenshe wakes up, there’s a book balanced against her shoulder and there are dark circles under his eyes but he waves off her gruff “Did you not fucking sleep, man?” and stalks towards the stairs just behind her.  The bruises on her arms are unhideable, and too sore to wrap, and the black eye is now accompanied with bruises lining that half of her face. Caleb watches as she moves, eyes careful; there’s a gingerness that makes him very sure she’s got bruises down her ribs, too, but that’s not how they work so he doesn’t ask.  

 

He does, however, stop her at the top of the stairs, hand on her shoulder, trying to show that this was something that was serious to him even if Beau always insists he  _ always  _ sounds serious.  “I...none of us want to make you uncomfortable, Beauregard.  None of us want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”  HIs voice is firm. “But, we are not...we can not tell what you are thinking you have to  _ tell us,  _ Schwester. “  He darts down the stairs before she can speak, apparently uncomfortable with the emotion he’d been showing, and by the time she gets downstairs he’s fending off a worried Nott, who can also definitely tell that Her Boy hadn’t gone to bed.  

 

That was the only thing Beau had time to notice before her vision was filled with Jester and Caduceus,both looking at her with a large amount of concern.  “Beau! What happened! Who do we have to kill?” Jester questioned, cracking her knuckles and looking worried as Caduceus tilted her head up to get a better look at her eye.  “Miss Beau, would you mind if I healed this?” She dips her head so he smiles with satisfaction and she feels the warm wave of magic wash over her. Their magic feels different, she and Caleb had often commented; Jester’s feels like soft, playful, cold touches, whereas Caduceus’s magic feels heavier, like a gentle presence and the smell of flowers.  She leans into it slightly, lets the warmth spread over the worst of the bruises, feels a rib grind back into place, and smiles. “Hey, thanks man.”  

 

For a moment, she allows herself to think that for now that’s the end of it, that she can come up with a better excuse, a better reason, before someone brings up the party but of course, she can’t.  Jester makes a sharp noise at her elbow and so Beau obediently turns to listen, tilting her head at the girl. “What? Everything ok, Jessie.” Jester nods, but there’s something Beau can’t read on her face and that makes all of the monk’s hairs stand on end.  “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine.” The tiefling insists, but there’s still something troubled on her face. “It’s just, we’re supposed to go to that party for that job tonight remember? Where they’re worried the rich guy is gonna be assasinated and we’re supposed to protect him?  And I’m really awesome but I don’t think I can hide that black eye and you can’t change yourself!”  

 

The distress on the tiefling’s face really just made Beau feel incredibly guilty.  Caleb was shooting her looks from his corner of the table, and she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be some sort of “Im on your side” gesture or a “for the love of god please keep Jester from crying.” Knowing Caleb, it was option b; he didn’t do well with tears, his own or someone else’s.  Frumpkin scrambled over the table to perch on her shoulder and Beau sent a slight grin to Caleb before turning back to Jester.  

 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. I probably just shouldn’t go then; I don’t think the nobles are gonna be very willing to believe another noble has a black eye and split knuckles, right man?” She glances at Caleb, who gives her a stern look of  _ for the love of god please don’t make me part of this  _ but she ignores it; she’d do it for him, too, and they both know it so he nods.  “Ja, I agree. I can, stay with Beauregard just outside, and Frumpkin can go with you, so if you need us we can be there.”  It’s a better compromise than she had come up with, which was more along the lines of Her staying in the inn, but she dips her head in agreement with Caleb’s words.  

 

Fjord was frowning across the table, though, so she raised her head to glare boldly back at him, but he didn’t seem particularly concerned.  “I don’t like that idea, Caleb you’re one of our best talkers we need you gathering information and Beau, we were hoping to keep you near the nobleman, right?  You’re good in an emergency.” She’s pretty sure that’s supposed to be a compliment, but in Fjord’s biting tone it feels more like an insult and she’s too tired and sore to figure out which it is.  “Fjord, I can’t go in there like this.” The half-orc sends a look at her and she bites down on a growl. “You’re right.” She narrows her eyes, knowing better than to think that she’s won. “So why did you get yourself beaten into a pulp last night?”  The girl bares her teeth, eyes furious as she scrambles to her feet and ducks towards the door.  

 

Caleb moves with her, fingers grasping Beau’s shoulder, eyes firm.  “Don’t run.” She leans into it for a moment, right hand clinging tightly to his wrist in an unusually visible gesture of neediness that worries Caleb even more.  “Beauregard.” The word means more than just what he says but Caleb can still see the panic in her eyes so he finishes the sentence. “Schwester. Tell them, ya? They’re not mindreaders, either.”  He tilts his head forward, lowering his voice until she can barely hear him. “They don’t want to hurt you, either. And if Fjord keeps being an idiot, I vill run vith you.” She can  _ hear  _ the nerves; Caleb’s accent thickens, a lot, when he’s skittish.  The tightening of her grip here is for him, too, as she turns back to face the others, who have been watching this whole display with a lot of confusion.  

 

“I.  Won’t.  Go, I mean.  I don’t  _ want  _ to go.”  Her voice is sharp and strained.  “ I don’t like fancy parties; my parents used to shove me in frilly dresses and drag me to them and then whine about me within my earshot and I don’t, I can’t, I don’t  _ want  _ to wear a dress.”  Her voice is sharp with distress, and she vaguely notices that Caleb is all but blocking her from the others, thin shoulders shaking; she’s reminded suddenly that Caleb doesn’t  _ do  _ conflict, confrentations, or anything of the sort and now he’s sort of plopped himself down in the middle of one.  For  _ her.   _ That thought means more than any words ever could to her, but it also means she has to end this now for him before this deteriorates.  “I’m sorry I should have just told you guys I didn’t want to go but you were so excited and I didn’t, want to, I didn’t want to make you sad.”  

 

Beau’s definitely hit her limit for emotion discussions, and this time Caleb is only a few moments behind her as she ducks for the stairs, up into the inn room, and curls up on the bed.  She feels the weight of what is quickly becoming her favorite thing, Caleb’s incredibly weighted coat, drape over her lower body. “Jester said to tell you that she’s sorry.” Beau twitches, sending Caleb an incredulous look; Jester, for all of the lovely things about her, wasn’t exactly someone who Beau had seen often admit that she was wrong.  “She...said that she should not have pushed you into something that you didn’t want to do, especially without even asking what you thought about it.”  

 

She doesn’t have to ask what Fjord had said; he’d obfuscated, he’d refused to admit that he was incorrect, and he’d only reluctantly agreed to Beau not going.  She wouldn’t have, even if someone had tried to force her, but things were easier when your whole party was in agreement. She rested her lower body over Caleb’s lap; the easiest way of giving him the weight of his coat, too.  He was dozing, book still propped up against her shoulder even though he was pretty much asleep. Frumpkin was sitting guard outside the door, so when he gave a loud MEOW Caleb jerked awake, flinching against her leg so she obediently rolled off her brother and let him up.

 

To her surprise, Fjord was standing outside the door, looking awkwardly at Frumpkin, who was hissing.  Caleb snapped something in Zemnian to the cat, who slipped back into the room. “Ja?” Fjord looks almost embaressed, and Beau lets herself grin for a moment as she realizes he had probably been subjected to at least one rant from Nott and Jester, or Caduceus, before turning her attention back to the half-orc.  “Yes, Fjord? Did you need something?” Fjord dips his head, raising a hand to run over his hair, which was getting longer and they should probably cut it again soon and…

 

And Fjord was talking, again.  “Yeah. I uh, Caddy and Jessie made it...clear that making plans without making sure everyone is ok with their role won’t end well for anyone, and I’ll make sure that I endevour not to do that in the future.”  It’s not perfect, and she’s pretty sure that Nott had threatened him because he keeps glancing over his shoulder like he expects a crossbow bolt to be buried in his back, but it’s something and she hopes he means it.  “It’s fine, dude. We’re cool, you know that. You better go get something to wear, though, before Jester decides  _ you  _ should wear a dress with her.”  She smirks at the look on his face before promptly closing the door and going back to the coat she was working on, needle working carefully against the soft fabric as quietly as she could, so Caleb could keep sleeping, and wondered if this was what  _ family  _ was supposed to feel like.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a difficult fight, Caleb finds himself having a hard time coming back. Beau won't let him suffer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured it was Caleb's turn for some pain again (Also, Molly isn't dead, I can't remember if I mentioned this before or not.) As always, pleeeeeease leave suggestions of things you'd like to see! Thank you!

In the back corner of a scummy bar in a tiny empire town, Beauregard was watching the crowd with a look that made quite a few patrons shoot her a look of concern.  The town population was very small, but this was the only bar, and that meant that  _ everyone  _ was in it right now, which meant that spotting Caleb was going to be extraordinarily difficult.  Caleb wasn’t a tiny man, but he made himself as small as possible, and that meant spotting him in a crowd of taller men was hard.  

 

The rest of the party was easy to spot.  Caduceus was asleep in one of the three rooms they had managed to rent for the night, after a long fight that had led to his almost-death, twice.  Molly, Nott, and Yasha were drowning their pain in copious amounts of alcohol while Fjord played a game of cards with a few old sailers, and while Beau would usually be at their side, she couldn’t shake the nervousness in her chest at the look Caleb had sent her as the fight ended.  She thought back, remembering that  _ awful  _ fight, and felt her arm hair stand on end once again.

 

_ Two of the cultists were nearly on top of Caduceus, who was on one knee gasping for breath and gesturing for the others to run, which clearly wasn’t going to happen.  Jester had a hand outstretched, healing magic flowing off of her fingertips towards the firbolg who shuttered and kept running out of the house. Caleb raised one hand, flames flickering over his finger tips as another round of arrows slammed into them, one catching Beau’s side and another striking Fjord’s shoulder as the half orc slumped to the ground.  Caleb roared, a vicious, feral sound and before Beau had time to say No, because she knew he shouldn’t do this for his own good, a fireball was slamming into the front porch and launching all of them back.   _

 

_ She’d found him afterwards, slumped against a tree, eyes locked on the burning building before them.  She’d only suffered a few burns to her shoulder, which were already not nearly as painful as the arrow in her side and the gashes that one of the cultist’s spells had caused to her legs.  “Hey, Caleb, dude, Cmon, let’s get out of here.” Caleb hadn’t moved, blankly staring at the house, lips mouthing words that Beau couldn’t read as she grabbed his shoulders and  _ **_forced_ ** _ him to his feet and back in the direction of the others, who were already running as fast as they possibly could. _

 

Caleb hadn’t said two words on the way back, vanishing upstairs as soon as the five-minute run, during which Jester and Caduceus had used all the healing spells they had to get everyone  _ sort  _ of ok.  Now, Caddy was dozing and bandaged up safely.  The others, except Jester, were well on their way to getting shitfaced in an effort to forget the memories, and Jester was asleep with her head on Yasha’s lap and her legs in Fjord’s. They were fine.  Beau  _ knew  _ she should stand down; she wanted a drink and a plate of food and maybe to curl up with Jester and let herself feel safe but she just couldn’t shake the nerves in her stomach and so she did just about the opposite; she stood, slipped through the crowded bar to the stairs, and ducked up them as fast as she could.

 

The first room she checked stood empty and silent, the second had only Caduceus curled up into a small ball in order to fit on the bed.  She slipped in long enough to make sure his wounds didn’t seem infected before exiting, not wanting to wake the exhausted cleric, and moving on to the third room. She knocked and found only silence, but she  _ knew  _ Caleb had to be in there; there were only three rooms on the floor, and there was no way he’d gotten through the bar without her noticing, so she opened it and stepped into the dark space.

 

It wasn’t fully dark, but it was close, so it took a moment for her human eyes to adjust enough to see the bundle tucked up against the foot of the bed.  “Caleb?” She calls, quietly, but the figure doesn’t even twitch which is the most concerning thing she’s ever seen because Caleb flinches if you  _ breathe  _ too loud, he should have given some sort of  reaction. “Cay, c'mon man, what’s up?” she asks, louder this time, dropping to a knee and reaching out a hand, eyes landing on his.

 

Caleb’s eyes were terrifyingly blank.   He didn’t even seem to notice her, staring at the far wall, and Beau’s chest filled with terror as she realized they had definitely been fucking  _ stupid  _ to leave the man by himself.  “Hey, c’mon Caleb.” She moved to sit next to the man, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder and  _ waiting.   _ Caleb shuttered and Beau reached out, wrapping one of her hands over Caleb’s, which were digging into his forearms.  Beau hissed in worry, other hand reaching forward to carefully pry her brother’s fingers from his forearms as blood spilled over, staining the bandages that he always had so meticulously wrapped.   “Oh gods, Cay, ok, you’re fine.” 

 

He very clearly wasn’t.  Caleb still hadn’t moved, barely seeming to realize that she was now gripping his wrists to keep them away from his arms, eyes still blank.  Beau grimaced at the blood running down his fingers and arms, feeling a burning need to go get Jester or Caduceus, before remembering that neither had any spells left, as her own throbbing wounds gave a burst of pain as a reminder.  She sighs, leaning closer to her fellow human, keeping a firm, tight hold on the unresponsive figure. “We shouldn’t have let you sulk up hear alone.” She mutters, eyes flashing with self-focused anger at her own  _ stupidity.   _ Usually, when Caleb went unresponsive, she’d toss him over her shoulder or tuck him into her side with a waterskin of alcohol ready but this time, she’d been more focused with running as fast as she could and then dealing with the fact that she was probably bleeding out.  

 

Long minutes passed in silence, but Beau could recognize the moment that Caleb started to come back. His arms flexed in her grip, straining a little against it, and she automatically released him, keeping her hands close in case his fingers went back to tearing his skin, but his hands just fell into his lap and stayed there.  “Caleb? You with me man?” It took several more too-long minutes, but Beau had the patience the monks had beaten into her to use and so she waited, until the hands curled back up and clung to her as Caleb started to shake. “Cay. You with me?” The grip tightens and Beau relaxes, running her thumbs awkwardly over the backs of his hands.  “Ok. Ok. I’m gonna go get Caddy, ok? He’s gotta have some nature shit for those wounds.”

 

She carefully untangles her arms, but she barely is to her feet before Caleb is  _ howling,  _ a deep, terrified sound that she never wants to hear a friend make ever again.  She turns in time to see him hurtle himself forward, numb legs sending him sprawling into her.  Beau barely managed to catch him, pulling Caleb’s limp body up onto the bed with her with a grunt.  “Easy, it’s ok man, just getting you on the bed.” She soothes clumsily, scrambling up next to him and draping herself carefully against his side.  

 

Beau leaned back against the wall, eyes half closed as she dozed for gods-knew-how-long, before the pounding of her head pulled her back to herself.  Groaning, Beau shifted further up in the bed, ignoring Caleb’s whine of protest and the way his grip on her tightened. Raising her less aching arm, she tapped one hand against the wall a few times, trying to draw Caduceus’s attention.  She knew the firbolg had exceptional hearing, so she increased the pressure until it was much closer to slamming than taping. Her head was on fire and blood from the wounds on her side and legs stained the blanket that she’d roughly pulled over her and she hurt  _ so badly  _ but she didn’t care, focus still entirely on the human who had curled himself into a ball and was clinging to her shirt.  A loud knock at the door finally drew her attention and Beau jumped, Caleb flinching with her as she called “Come in!” 

 

Beau loved Jester, but there was something about Caduceus that just felt so  _ good  _ when one was tired and hurting.  The firbolg padded gently across the room, resting a big hand on her shoulder as he sat down.  “Hello there. Everything ok?” Caleb flinches, curls closer, and Beau holds him a little tighter, shifting to glance up at Caddy.  “ ‘m sorry to bother you man, I know you’re tired, but I was wondering if you had any more of that salve you used last week? I have some open wounds.”   _ And Caleb does too,  _ she thought, hoping he could read it in her body language as she shifted to pull up her shirt and make the cuts to her ribs visible.  Caduceus nodded, turning away to rummage about in his bag.

 

Beau had, more than once, wondered just how much shit was  _ in  _ that bag, but she’d never had the confidence to ask and so she once again just tried to peak around her arm to see, watching the tall, slow-moving figure carefully as she shifted further up to give him better access to her ribs.  She couldn’t hide her flinch as his fingers prodded where she had ruthlessly torn the arrow out, but Caduceus seemed unconcerned as he set about smearing a thick, pasty mixture over the wounds and wrapped her ribs, before moving on to the spell-caused wounds to her legs.  

 

_ This  _ was why Beau was so glad they’d met Caddy.  He didn’t make small talk, he didn’t ask why the hell she hadn’t gotten these treated hours ago, he just worked quietly and incredibly gently, looking sad every time Beau flinched in pain but never commenting.  “Thank you” Beau muttered as the firbolg tied the last bandage off and hauled himself back up. “You’re very welcome. Mister Caleb, do you need any help?” Caleb flinches, curling smaller against Beau’s side, and she tightens her grip almost instinctively; she  _ knows  _ he needs to get the wounds on his arms looked at, but she wasn’t going to push it if he didn’t want to do it, not today.

 

“May I do it, Cay?”  He shifts, eyes catching hers in the semi-darkness as she untangles one of her hands and holds it out; not demanding, not pushing, just  _ offering.   _ Caleb gives a tiny nod, resting his hand in hers, and so Beau swiftly begins to unwrap his customary wrappings.  The layers of wounds over scars make her want to go tear Ikithon’s face off, but she doesn’t let it show. Instead she just works quietly, wiping the blood away and smearing the thick paste over his arms before letting Caleb rewrap them and slumping back onto the bed, energy suddenly spent.  “Thanks, Caddy.” She felt the big hand brush over her shoulder for a moment before the firbolg stood and started towards the door. “No trouble at all.”

 

She’s just about asleep, pain fading away, when she feels Caleb shift.  She freezes, letting him cuddle into her side and bury his head in her chest and pretends that she’s too asleep to feel it.  She’s almost certain that he’ll bolt before morning, to at least the other side of the bed, so he doesn’t have to let himself admit that he’s not nearly the stone-cold murderer he’s so desperate to convince himself that he is, but she hopes he doesn’t.  She lays there, somewhat less uncomfortable than she had expected and, as she tightens her grip on Caleb and tries to convey all the emotions she knows she doesn’t quite understand in that movement, the only word she can think of is  _ brother.   _


	7. Reading

“Hey, Caleb?”  Caleb turns from where he is carefully reshelfing a book to give a tired, but genuine seeming, smile in Beau’s direction.  “Hallo, Beauregard.” His movements are careful and precise as he sets the book back and goes to pick up a new one, setting it down on the table and sitting over it flipping through the pages.  Beau settles down nearby. “What’re you reading?” Caleb’s eyes flicker up, then back down at the book. “It is, ah, a book on demons. Given the recent issues, I thought it might be useful?” Beau hums in agreement, moving to grab her own book off the shelf and settling down to read it, glancing up occasionally at Caleb.  After maybe twenty minutes, she noticed the man across of her had frozen, hands moving subtly and lips moving but not turning the page. It was a motion Beau recognized well; he was casting something. “Caleb?” His eyes jerked back up and he cursed in Zemnian, eyes wide and upset, though he quickly hid it. “Ah, Ja, wat es wrong?”  

 

Beau hesitated, watching the way his eyes fell on the page but made no move to read it.  “I was just wondering what you were doing?” Caleb’s gaze drooped slightly but he made no move to look her in the eyes as he easily lied “Oh, nothing important” and went back to  _ reading  _ the book.  His eyes sort of skimmed the pages, not seeming to really care what the book was saying.  After what felt like another five minutes of watching Caleb stare at a page, she clambered over the table to plop down next to him and glanced over his shoulder.  The book was common, slightly older common, but common, and so she didn’t really understand why he was glaring at it like it was the most evil thing in the universe.  “I, I should be going. Es tu leid, Beauregard.” And then he was out the door and gone, and Beau was left incredibly confused on what the  _ hell  _ had just happened.  

 

She started watching Caleb more, after that.  They had a week off, so she spent most of her time agreeing to go the library with him and listening to him mumble in Zemnian over pages of paper.  And as she watched, she noticed something; every little while Caleb would go still on the other side of the table, but she was never able to see  _ what  _ he was doing.  The boy was very good at being subtle, but he also didn’t seem to notice anything she was doing, so the girl slipped around to the other side of the desk and peeked over his shoulder to see...his spellbook?

 

She slipped out, after that; the Cobalt Soul wasn’t going to throw someone who was clearly delighted by learning out, and Caleb was unlikely to be disruptive in some way.  She headed back to the corner of the library she liked the best; a tiny section of books in Deep Speech. Very few people even here at the reserve spoke the language, so it was a pretty small section of books, mostly things on Aberrations.  She leaned against the wall, a book on Mind Flayers propped open on one leg as she peered through the shelf at Caleb. Now that he was alone, he had his book on the table and was mumbling over it, doing what she now recognized as ritual casting a spell, but that didn’t answer the question of  _ why.   _

 

When Beau  _ needed  _ to know something about Caleb, she went to Nott.  “Hey, Nott?” The girl’s eyes flick up to his face and she gives a wide, fangy smile.  “Hey, Beau!” The goblin was  _ definitely  _ drunk, if the way she lay sprawled over Jester’s lap was any indication.  Jester was sighing, running a hand over Nott’s hair and looking down at their friend with a high level of concern, and Beau realized she wasn’t gonna get anything out of the little goblin, so she just sighed, flopped down in a chair, and ordered her own drink.

 

She watched him more, after that.  They left Zadash and moved on, and Beau kept one eye on him as best she could towards the coast, watching as Caleb seemed to relax a little once they crossed the border.  He sat more towards the front of the cart or even rode one of their horses, instead of huddling in the back of the cart and looking like he was trying to disappear into the illusionary boxes.  

 

And then, they were on the coast, and everything went to shit.  Beau stalked behind Caleb as they moved through the city, tracking down a navigator.  And then Caleb was hunched behind her shoulder with a twisted look on his face that Beau didn’t understand.  She wanted to ask him, later, but she knew that Caleb didn’t do well when people tried to make him explain himself and so she didn’t ask.

 

Beauregard  _ hated  _ the boat with a burning passion.  There was nowhere to go and nothing to do.  There were only so many times she could backflip off of the mast before Jester yelled at her for being an idiot and Caleb asked her to come down and read with him.  He’d never  _ asked  _ before, except when he wanted her to get him in the library but that wasn’t quite the same thing.  Caleb’s fingers hovered over the paper of the book, eyes creased with frustration, and Beau’s impulsiveness finally got the better of her.

 

“Caleb, not that I don’t appreciate spending time with you, but what the hell is up with you recently?” Caleb flinched, eyes widening for a moment as he stared at her, and Beau mentally cursed herself.  For a heartbeat, she thought he would run, but then all the fight bled out of Caleb’s shaking muscles and he sort of seemed to slump. “I am sorry, I do not...I can’t....” he squirms a little, one hand flapping miserably.  “I do not understand what Orly was saying before and it sounded important.” He blurts out, voice laced with self-hatred and embarrassment, and Beau blinks in confusion.  

Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that.  To be entirely frank she had no idea what she  _ had  _ expected, but she foolishly tended to assume that the vast majority of Caleb’s issues came from Trent, from fire over wood, from screams and insanity and  _ nothingness.   _ This was, apparently, something entirely different which was a little refreshing, but also concerning because Beau’s first thought was  _ how many issues can one person have?  _ Thankfully, she managed to not say that aloud, turning her attention back to the skittish looking man in front of her.

 

“Ok.  Would you like me to tell you?”  Caleb stiffens, something confused flickering over his face, like he doesn’t quite understand what she’s offering, so Beau sighs and keeps going.  “What he said, Cay. Would you like me to tell you what Orly aid before?” Caleb perks up, giving a sort of sharp, surprised nod, so Beau does her best to just restate the explanation of how Orly had said.  It wasn’t really that important, most of it was just the tortle rambling about weather patterns and their impact on where they were going, but Caleb listened as intently as he would have if they were discussing something of vital importance.

 

She sort of expected him to never mention it again, since Caleb hated mentioning anything that implied a weakness.  But then, two days after they had...met? Avantika, Caleb settled down next to her on the deck. “Vat did she say before?” His voice is so soft that she barely hears it, but it’s there all the same.  “I, her voice, I can not..” Caleb trails off, one hand digging into the bandages around his other forearm as he growls in frustration.

 

There’s something in his eyes that she doesn’t understand, but she doesn’t need to understand it to know that Caleb was upset with himself.  “Ok. It was just lots of threatening, really, with a little bit of explanation that we are going to an island the weirder looking guy found.”  She leans back, doing her best to remember the words; about sea gods and orbs and  _ Fjord,  _ and she can see the tightness in Caleb’s shoulders loosening as she does.  He leans his head back and closes his eyes, and Beau  _ really doesn’t get this dude,  _ but she’s glad to see him looking less like he wanted to throw himself into the sea.  

 

She figures it out, one night, sitting on her bedroll with a book in what she thought might be  _ orcish,  _ though she wasn’t sure. The book was open on her knees and she was considering going to Caleb, asking him to cast comprehend languages and tell her if it was important, when it clicked.  Her mind flashed back, to memories of Caleb hunched over books with fingers flying, to the twist of his face when they dealt with more accented common. “Oh, you fucker.”   
  


Let no one say that Beauregard had gained much tact since meeting the others; she sat down across from him, put her feet up on the table, and said: “You don’t read common very well, do you?” Caleb froze, hands shaking as he pulled them back into his lap and sent a  _ terrified  _ look in her direction, but Beau didn’t let that make her stop.  This needed to be addressed. “Caleb. For the love of the gods I  _ really  _ don’t understand you.”  Caleb blinked up at her, for once confusion overwhelming what was usually just fear on his face.  “I, uh, Beauregard?” He stammered awkwardly.  

 

Beau glanced down at the book in his hands,  _ common _ , and turned her eyes back to his until the man flinched and looked away.  “Caleb, none of us give a damn if you’re not good at reading common but for the love of the gods...what if something happened and we’d  _ needed  _ you to have read something!”  Caleb flinched, scampering around the table to tuck himself into her side with a surprising speed.  “ ‘m not stupid” he mutters harshly, and Beau stiffens, because Caleb wouldn’t say that if someone hadn’t told him he  _ was. _

 

“No, you’re not.”  Beau agrees with a tired sigh, because Caleb’s self-deprecation was  _ exhausting.   _ “If anyone here says you are tell me and I’ll beat them up for you.  We don’t expect you to be perfect at common, dude. I’m pretty sure none of us give a damn if you can’t read common but for the love of the gods, you’ve got to trust us with this shit!”  Caleb flinched, resting his forearms on the table with a whine. Beau sighed, reaching a hand over to rub his back. “You speak common fine, y’know? Why is it that you can't read it?” Caleb shrugged, tugging his book across the table and glaring at it.  “I am not sure. I am not, you know I am not so good at common anyway, and I have not been good at reading it ever.” He turns his attention back to the book, making it clear that he’d rather focus on that then talking, so she lets him.  

 

And if she sometimes sidles up to him as she watches him, head bent over a book silently mouthing out a word, she doesn’t call him on it.  He reaches over sometimes, one hand grabbing her wrist with a tired look on his face as they listen to the more difficult voices; Zorth was particularly difficult, apparently.  In return, he’d slid into her room a few days after their conversation, dropped two books on her desk, and said “If you vould like, I could...you could…” Here he seems to lose confidence in what he was saying, so Beau’s eyes flicker down to the books; a Zemnian-Common dictionary and what looks like basically a picture book stare back at her.

 

“You’d like to teach me Zemnian?”  He gives a grateful nod, mumbling on “I will not mind if you say no I know it is not so useful here but you are good at languages and so I thought you might be interested.”  Beau gives him a look and he shuts up as she carefully scoops both books into her lap. She knows somehow that this is different from the languages she’d taught herself or been forced to learn with the Cobalt Soul.  Zemnian was what Caleb  _ was,  _ and his language clearly meant something to him so she tries her best to give a smile that doesn’t look like she wants to kill him and nods.  “That sounds awesome; I’d love to learn.” He settles down on the floor and she joins him, watching how carefully he runs his fingers over the book. “Ja, ok, let us start, then?”  Beau grins in delight and nods. “Let us start.”  


	8. Beau knows people in interesting places

“I’m booooored.” Beau whines, squirming to be sitting up and shooing Nugget off her feet.  Caleb was sitting at the desk, hands bent over his book. He doesn’t even look up, typing on for another moment before slowly shifting his eyes to look at Beau.  “Oh? You could, you know, you could work on the studying your mentor has asked us to do?” He offers softly, but the girl groans dramatically and flops back onto the bed.  “That’s so  _ boring!   _ C’mon Cay, let’s go do something fun!  We can play a prank on the Chaos Crew or something!”  Caleb snorts, turning back to his parchment even as he gives another quiet “Beauregard, I Am very busy, you know; if you are going to be loud I would prefer you to go somewhere else and do it there.”

 

Beau pointedly ignored the man; she could see the silent tremor of Caleb’s hand and she could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it was very clear that he was not ok, so she just waited, grumbling as loudly as she could about how boring reading about the Abyss was, the reading that she had already finished, before Nott messaged and asked her to  _ “Please for the love of the Gods, please get Caleb to do something that doesn’t involve his bedroom and reading.”   _ She’d tried to figure out something to do, but Xhorhaus was still very dangerous for them and so she had to be  _ careful.   _ But now she had an idea and so all she had to do was  _ execute  _ it.  

 

She started by grabbing his book.  Caleb jerked upright, sending an annoyed look in her direction, but Beau ignored him as she tossed him his new boots.  Caleb sighed but seemed to know he couldn’t argue as he nodded and tugged his boots on, slowly grabbing his cheaper, but weighted coat.  Beau had been helping him with his new one but it wasn’t done, and Beau grimaced because that made it even more clear that he was having a bad day.  

 

Beau led the way down the street, letting Caleb keep himself firmly behind her as they moved through the crowd. She knew where she was going, having scoped out the building in the poorer section of town earlier that day, and so she lead with confidence even as Caleb struggled to keep up.  After a ten-minute walk, they found themselves effectively in the slums, and Caleb glanced around warily. “I, uh, Beauregard? Why are we here?” He questioned aloud, causing Beau to grin. “We’re almost there, c’mon man!” It was a testament to how much he trusted her that Caleb just sighed and kept following.  

 

The building was made of roughly carved stone, bigger than the small, damaged homes that made up most of the slums.  Beau knocked briskly on the door, giving a grin of greeting to the drow who opened it. He was tall and thin, leaning on a crutch that was jammed under his left arm and wearing dirty clothes, though he gave a noise of happiness when he saw who it was.  “Come in! It’s good to see you again. This is your friend?” At Beau’s nod, he limped a few steps back to allow them in. “I’m sorry, I know I’m a little...disheveled?” Beau shrugged, tugging Caleb inside and giving a quiet “It’s fine dude, I know you’re busy.”

 

He leads them towards the back room and Caleb pauses, sending a wary glance around the space.  “I am sorry, I am just...what es this place?” Beau grins at him, tugging him forward as gently as she can manage, which still almost knocked him over, into the back room of the building.  She ducked in first, dropping instantly into a sitting position as she heard the patter of paws in her direction. Beau grinned, dropping her hands to pet the large black dog who had sprawled over her lap as soon as she came in.  Caleb made a noise of confusion, dropping to the ground to huddle next to her as the drow, Kethan, rolled his eyes at the puppy. “Sorry about him, he’s enthusiastic.”  

 

“This is your home?”  Caleb questioned, and Kethan nodded with a small smile.  “Yes. I run an uh…” he muttered something in Elven for a moment before continuing.  “An...a place for homeless animals to go.” Caleb perked up at that, and Beau grinned; she knew Caleb liked animals.  “With Nugget with Jessie’s mom and Dairon always being in the house now, I thought maybe we could get another house pet.”  

 

They walked slowly through the back room.  It was large, but sectioned off into sort of pens.  There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the animal's locations, but Kethan walked through and smiled affectionately at every animal they walked by, calling each by their name and rubbing their ears or cuddling them for a moment before he continued, and the animals seemed content enough.  There were some smaller dogs that Caleb and Beau quickly decided against for fear that either Nott would eat them or they’d escape or be stepped on. They moved past the cats, since Caleb quietly admitted he was  _ pretty sure  _ Frumpkin would fight them, and wandered towards what Kethan said was the area for larger dogs and more unusual pets.  

 

Beau was pretty sure that this was the happiest she’d been in a while. She stretched out on the floor of the pen, letting the bigger dogs flop over her lap and lick her face.  Caleb was taking a more methodical approach to pet finding, quietly asking Kethan about the behavior of various dogs who caught his attention. Beau leaned against the wall, running her fingers over the soft fur of one of the largest dogs, who had to be at least 100 pounds.  It was grey-ish brown with a short to medium length shaggy coat and big kind blue eyes. Kethan turned and grinned, moving over to her side as Caleb went to look at the dogs who hadn’t come running as quickly. “That’s Tehan, he’s about 9 months old so he’s almost full grown.  He’s very sweet.”  

 

Caleb drifted away from Beau and the drow, towards the back section of the room where there were kennels.  The spaces were small but not tiny, with room for the animals to move about. He scanned the cages, nothing really catching his eye until his gaze fell on one near the right side.   There was a dog, with pale golden and white fur and deep blue eyes, and he found himself making a soft noise. The creature was covered in scars, small ones alone the face and deeper ones down it’s shoulders.  “Hallo there.” He murmured, crouching down a few feet away to watch intently. “You are beautiful.” The dog woofed, leaning against the bars so the wizard could pet it’s ears. Beau glanced up, eyes softening as she spotted Caleb petting the dog and turned to glance at the drow, who was watching with a surprised look on his face.

 

Beau pay and goes to find Caleb after.  He and the dog are in a pen, the pup sprawled over his lap nuzzling at his fingers.  The other, bigger puppy was bouncing up and down eagerly on the far side of the room and it was really, really cute. The dog by Caleb didn’t seem too put off by the energetic counterpart, though it also didn’t seem terribly interested in joining the fray.  Beau dropped down to sit next to Caleb, offering a hand to the beautiful golden dog. Caleb sighed, tucking his head into her shoulder with a low hum as they watched the animals. “Kethan is just getting the leashes for us.” She explains, and Caleb stiffens slightly, glancing at the pair of dogs who were now carefully sniffing each other. 

 

“What if the others do not want the dogs?”  Caleb murmured, eyes wary. Beau nudges Caleb in the ribs, reaching over him to rub Tehan’s ears.  “That seems very unlikely to me. Jester will be over the moon with more animals, and Caduceus won’t care.  Nott will be glad they make you happy.” Caleb still looked hesitant, wrapping one hand loosely around Tehan’s side to pet the shaggy fur, and Beau grinned slightly.  “If Fjord complains, I’ll kick his ass, ok?”  _ That  _ got a wide smile out of Caleb, and even a chuckle, so Beau grinned along with him.

 

They walked back briskly.  Tehan surged ahead, yanking on Beau’s arms, clearly wanting to  _ run.   _ Beau would’ve been down for that, but she really thought splitting up in the drow city was a bad idea and so she did her best to keep the large dog at her side.  Caleb and the smaller dog had no such issue; the pup was plastered to Caleb’s side, whining loudly and clearly upset about the crowds, but Caleb muttered gently in Zemnian to the animal and kept a tight grip on the leash so he couldn’t worm away.  “His name is Garin.” Caleb mutters and Beau nods, sending a glare at a pair of drow who were watching them and grinning when the duo turns away.

 

The others weren’t back when they returned, which meant they were probably  _ very  _ drunk somewhere and Jester was trying to keep them all from being idiots.  Beau unlocked the door and ducked inside, glancing around to make  _ sure  _ it was empty before unleashing Tehan and Garin and letting the dogs run off to explore.  Caleb watched warily, eyes wide as the animals headed off to roam their new home. The two humans ended up back in Caleb’s room, since Caleb was pretty sure having dogs in the library would be an unmitigated disaster.  Garin claimed half of the bed, and had a staring contest with Frumpkin until the cat grumbled and flopped down on his back, seeming to realize the dog was here to stay.

 

Beau stretched out on the rest of the bed, watching Caleb walking slowly around the room putting up his thread and murmuring to himself in Zemnian.  After  _ well  _ over ten minutes, she got up and sighed, tugging him to flop down with the dogs. “You need to sleep.”  Caleb opened his mouth to protest, eyes skittish, but Beau keeps her grip firm and Caleb wilts. “Caleb, cmon man,” she muttered, reaching out a hand again and grimacing as he flinched sharply away.  The man grimaced, tucking his limbs close to his chest and curling up against her side. Beau hummed, running a hand over his shoulder as the dogs flop around them. Beau closed her eyes as well, dozing off with the warm weight of Tehan in her lap and Caleb’s head on her shoulder.

 

Fjord and Caduceus slipped into the house, glancing around.  Nott and Jester had already gone upstairs, but they wanted to make sure that Caleb and Beau were doing alright.  Beau’s room was empty, so Fjord moved on to Caleb’s room, slowly opening the door and grinning at what he saw. “Hey, Cads.” He breathes softly, beckoning the firbolg over.  Beau was curled protectively around Caleb, arms looped loosely around the smaller man. The larger dog was pressed up against Beau’s back, while a smaller but still good sized dog was snuggling up with their legs.  Fjord decided against  _ mentioning  _ the fact that there were dogs, as that seemed more a conversation for the morning, as he quietly stepped back into the hall, closed the door, and left the siblings in peace.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        


	9. Feeblemind Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau is scared. She doesn't really have any idea what to do about that.

She’d never say it, but Beau was scared.  The demon…. _ thing  _ that they were fighting had pointed a hand at Caleb, laughed viciously, and slammed a hand into the ground.  Beau had barely had time to lunge for Caleb before the world around them was falling and she twisted, managing to make him land on top of her as she struck the ground with a howl of pain, dragging them both back a few feet in case the ceiling collapsed, but it seemed to have just sealed.  Beau lay panting on the ground, before slowly turning to look at Caleb, who was...cowering back on the ground, sides heaving in terror as he made pathetic little whimpering sounds.

 

“Caleb.”  Beau murmured, trying her best to sound soothing though she knew she was probably failing.  “Caleb, you’re safe it’s just me.” Caleb keened, eyes seeming to settle on her face for a moment before he hurtled himself desperately into her arms whimpering and keening frantically.  It’s so  _ far  _ from Caleb’s normal behavior that it’s very, very clear something is incredibly wrong and Beau is so surprised by it that all she can do is pull Caleb close and listen to his whimpering cries and try not to feel like the worst person for this job. 

 

She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but she knew that this was probably a spell which meant it was  _ probably  _ fixable which meant that she just had to keep them alive.  But as she went to move back, she realized another problem; her leg flared up into absolute agony and she couldn’t help but scream.  Caleb yelped, leaping away from her and cowering in fear as she was left clutching her leg, bone protruding from a little below the knee and blood running down her leg. 

 

Beau’s efforts to sound soothing probably didn’t sound soothing, but she managed to get Caleb to stop backing up from the now-filled-in hole that they’d fallen through, though he stayed huddling against the back wall whimpering and shivering slightly. She didn’t know much about medicine, but this was  _ bad.  _  She cursed, pressing herself into the wall and shivering in pain as she still reached out for Caleb, tucking the keening man against her right side, eyes struggling to see through the goggles with how many black spots the pain was putting in her vision. 

 

She got her staff under her and stood, leaning right a little so her left leg wasn’t touching the floor but even that didn’t work as she immediately was in so much pain she  _ had  _ to sit.  She managed to make no sound, this time, so at least Caleb didn’t go running, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling, couldn’t stop  telling herself how  _ weak stupid bad  _ she was she needed to be quiet she was going to scare him even worse than he already was.

 

She fumbled with her bag, finding a few daggers, extra clothes, and...really not that much that would be useful for medical care.  She dug deeper, fingers fumbling as she tried to find more, find  _ something,  _ finally feeling her fingers close onto something square-shaped.  She hauled it out, blinking down at the old medical kit in confusion before remembering she’d gotten it near the start of their journeys.  She rummaged through, finding enough gauze and flat, solid pieces of...something to splint her leg, but she doubted it would help the agony radiating through her body.  

 

Caleb was still whimpering, keening and crying out pitifully against her side.  It was painfully clear that the terrified man had no idea what was going on, so the next time Beau stood, she took him up with her, propping herself up on his shoulder as Caleb whimpered in confusion.  “Easy, Cay, you’re fine!” She murmured, taking a step forward and prompting him forward with a hand around his waist, right hand leaning on her Bo staff. She stumbled, catching herself on her staff with a yelp of pain causing Caleb to whine against her side again.  It was almost pitch black, so even with the goggles she faltered, each “step” on her right leg forcing her to pause for a moment to feel for where she was going.  

 

Caleb was whimpering as they walked, so Beau kept up a steady thread of commentary, hoping that if he could hear her he would at least not panic in a way that would hurt her throbbing leg.  She kept them moving forward, humming a soft halfling song that the workers had taught her when she’d been crying and hiding in one of the sheds because her father was angry. Caleb was still shaking, though he was no longer  _ constantly  _ keening, now it was more of an every few minutes activity.  

 

Beau cursed herself out aloud as she walked, hating her own lack of ability to be helpful in this situation.  Caleb could’ve just teleported out and Jester and Caddy could’ve healed her leg or sent a message and Nott at least could’ve calmed Caleb down and Fjord could do...some weird shit probably.  But she, worthless, human,  _ normal,  _ Beau, was just fucking useless.  Caleb didn’t seem to hear the difference between this and any other noise she’d been making so she just stumbled and hobbled down the hall, face pressed into Caleb’s shoulder as he keened into her side.  

 

After what felt like hours but probably wasn’t, her right leg faltered, exhausted from her effort as she finally gave up and slumped against the wall, pulling Caleb down to huddle into her chest.  She sat for several minutes trying to breathe, gasps of agony slowly fading into exhaustion. She rummaged at her belt for a few shaky moments, pulling out her waterskin and downing half before nudging it into Caleb’s lips, prompting him to drink which he did greedily, causing another round of cursing from Beau for not stopping for water sooner.  

 

“We got spoiled with Caduceus, you know.”  She hums. “None of us have rations now cause he always cooks.  I’m sorry, cay, I know you’ve gotta be starving.” Caleb huddles into her side, making little noises and cries that just about broke even Beau’s shielded heart because she can’t help but feel really fucking useless right now.  

 

Beau’s not happy about it but she walks down the tunnel a little bit away to pee, Caleb trailing behind like a scared puppy.  Beau groaned, grumbling “please don’t remember this” as she helped him with his pants, waited till he was done, then hobbled back to their spot leaning on his shoulder heavily.  It was getting colder, so Beau fumbled in her bag for a blanket and the medical kit again, downing something that she was  _ pretty sure  _ was supposed to help with pain, about to fall asleep when she heard Jester in the back of her mind.  

 

“Beau!  Are you and Cay-leb ok? Where are you?  We are ok but we cant find you guys. Please be alive Please don’t be dead.”  Beau froze, finally relaxing as she responded. “Jester, we’re in a tunnel. Caleb is not hurt. What do I do if my leg bone is sticking out of the skin?  Thank you.”

 

It was silent for a moment and she worried that Jester did not have enough spells to speak again, but after a few moments Caduceus’s voice filled her head, gentle and calm.  “Oh, that worked. Thank you, Wildmother. Miss Beau, The Traveler seems to think that we’re not that far from you all so we’re going to rest to get our spells back and then find you in the morning, ok?”  Beau wasn’t sure how he said so much but she didn’t care, curling up with her arms wrapped around Caleb’s shoulders to tug him down with her. “Ok, Caddy. Ok. Thank you. We’ll see you in the morning.”  

 

Beau dozed for not nearly long enough, before being woken up by Caleb’s yowling and yelping.  She glanced around, cursing when she realized how warm it was. “Ok, that doesn’t seem good.” She hopped a few feet down the tunnel, cursing furiously as she saw the flames licking the edges of the tunnel.  “Ok, time to go Cay.” She slung her bag over her shoulders and manhandled him into his, sighing as she saw the panic on the red-haired man’s face. It was clear he didn’t understand what was going on, but that wasn’t stopping him from being terrified and it broke her heart.  “Shh, this is fine Caleb, we’re fine.” Beau soothed, forcing her right leg to function as they stumbled down the hall.  

 

Caleb whimpered the whole way down the hall, tears running down his face as he clung to Beau.  She leaned on his shoulder, staff digging into the cracks in the hard stone as they moved. “We have to get out of here.  I’m not sure if that was just “we’re in a demon tunnel” or if the demon is trying to kill us on purpose but both are bad.”  The tunnel tilted up slightly and Beau cursed, struggling up the hill wheezing with effort as smoke was starting to fill the air around them.  Caleb whimpered but Beau kept moving, kept hauling him with everything she had uphill.  

 

Beau knew pain.  She knew monks fists in her shoulders and ribs and knees and forcing herself back to her feet each time her legs hit the ground.  She knew her father’s elbow in her head and hauling her bruised body to her room not really able to even stand. She knew ice lizards that scorched her flesh and tried to eat her.  She knew the terror on Jester’s eyes when one of them went down, the terrified flapping and clawing at his skin that Caleb would do when something hurt him, Caduceus’s concerned eyes and the way Fjord’s breath would catch in his throat.  “I’ve been very bad at making it so you guys don’t hurt, recently.” She growls, hauling herself another step forward, forcing her left leg to stay off the ground as Caleb whimpers in fear. 

 

It feels like they’re walking forever when the worst of the heat finally fades.  Caleb goes half limp in her grip and Beau curses, lowering them down and raising his waterskin to his lips again, letting him finish it off. “Breathe, Cay, you’re ok.”  Beau soothed, curling up next to him and  _ finally  _ falling asleep.

 

She opened her eyes to movement.  “What the fuck.” Beau cursed, thrashing about until she realized Caleb was holding her against one side and stumbling forward, and that the air was  _ full  _ of smoke.  She cursed, pulling her Bo staff from where it had been on her back and shifting her grip on Caleb, still confused on how he’d even managed to bring her when it was clear that he was a shell of his usual self.  She glanced over at his face as she kept stumbling up the tunnel, foot occasionally bumping on the ground and causing her to scream in pain. Caleb’s glazed eyes were full of terror and confusion but he still clung to her and pulled her along.

 

After  _ far  _ too long walking he faltered, foot catching on a rock and falling clinging to his leg.  Beau cursed, hauling Caleb back up, but he stumbled and nearly fell again till she propped him up against the wall.  He was crying again, hands desperately rubbing on his forearms as Beau glanced back, seeing the flames licking around the most recent corner signaling that this tunnel was going to be on fire  _ soon.   _ “Damnit I can’t fucking do this!”  She shouted, smacking one hand against the stone wall of the tunnel, willing the jolt of pain to soothe her frayed nerves.  “I’m so fucking useless I’m sorry Caleb.”  

 

She reached for him again and he went willingly, letting her take most of his weight on her good leg as she effectively dragged him forward.  After a few moments, she paused for a second, using some rope from her bag to make a harness that basically kept him vertical at her side as she forced them to keep moving.  

 

“Caleb.  I see the sky.  C’mon Caleb look up, there’s the sky.”  Beau gasped, taking another step, then another, then another, hauling Caleb forward with most of their combined weight on her good leg and staff, breathing in the cold air with gasps of relief.  The smoke had faded a little, but it had left her chest irritated and her exhausted breath catching in her lungs. “C’mon Caleb, we’re out, we’re ok.”  

 

She collapsed at the base of the first three she saw, fingers briskly releasing Caleb from her side.  He was shivering, eyes blank with shock as she guided him to lay down, head resting in her lap as her fingers worked through his hair, murmuring soothingly. “Shh, you’re safe, Caleb.  You know I’ll die for you if I need to, we’ll get you back.” Caleb didn’t respond, didn’t give any sign that he’d heard or understood, so she leaned back against the tree and cursed softly.  “You’d have been so much more fucking useful than me I’m so sorry Cay it should’ve been me.”  

 

She was half asleep when she heard Caduceus’s voice filter into her mind again.  “Miss Beau, are you alright? Jester thinks we’re going the right way now we’ll be there soon.”  She gave a groan, too tired and in too much pain to give a proper response as Caduceus kept up a steady litany of reassurances. Beau was running a hand over Caleb’s back tiredly, humming weakly as she did so.

 

The sun was high by the time the others got there, and Beau was shaky with pain, dehydration, and exhaustion. Footsteps barely drew her attention, but then Caduceus was kneeling before her with one hand pressed to her face and she was slumping forward into his  _ soft gentle kind  _ grip and everything went dark.

 

Beau blinked awake on a bed, blanket tucked up over her and a warm body pressed up to her side.  She groaned, stretching out and relaxing when she realized her left leg, though it still ached, felt considerably better than it had before.  She scanned the room, noting Caleb’s warm body sleeping at her back as she did so. Beau sighed, considering getting up but deciding against it as her leg gave another throb.  She settled back down, rolling to her side once more so she could rest a hand against Caleb’s wrist, closing her eyes and falling back to sleep feeling safe in the knowledge that Caleb was safely pressed up to her back too.  


	10. Feeblemind part 2

Caleb was scared.  He didn’t want to think about what had happened over that terrifying day that really he remembered all too well, the heat under his feet and the terror because he couldn’t  _ do anything he couldn’t talk he was useless worthless and he was burning please don’t make me burn.   _ He flinched back, wrapping arms around his torso and sending a nervous look at the others to make sure they didn’t notice.  Beau had crept out early in the morning and he didn’t know where she was, which was concerning because she was still favoring her injured leg.  He didn’t want to wake the others; Caduceus was curled up in a ball on the other bed with Nott by his feet and Jester by his back. Fjord wasn’t there and neither was Yasha, so he assumed they were in the other room.

 

Caleb was pretty sure he’d be yelled at for leaving, but he didn’t care.  The inn was too small; his skin was crawling and he just needed  _ out.   _ And if he happened to ask half a dozen people if they saw where Beau went and followed her, well, that was his own business.  His feet throbbed as he walked, lungs still aching slightly from the effort they were putting in after the smoke he’d inhaled recently.  He walked briskly, not trusting the cold landscape around him to be safe as he did so, but after a few minutes his keen eyes landed on a small, dark bundle on top of a wall.  

 

Beau was sitting silently thinking when he approached.  She heard a sound and spun, looking around in confusion before finally looking  _ down.   _ “Dude what the fuck are you doing?”  She demanded, dropping to her belly to reach a hand down and lift him.  Caleb’s hand was bleeding from his effort on the thirty-foot wall and he groaned, flopping into her side with a muffled Zemnian curse.  “Beauregard, next time you wish to run, could you do it closer to the ground?” The girl gave a muffled laugh, wrapping an arm around him gently.  “Yeah, I’ll be sure to work on that.” she groans sarcastically.

 

After what feels like a very long time Beau shifts, glancing down.  “Ok, this is fine…” She did  _ not  _ want to put her left leg down so she gripped the wall awkwardly, bracing with her right leg as she slowly fought to lower herself down.  Caleb poked his head over the wall, eyes concerned as Beau dropped the last fifteen feet, unable to suppress a howl of pain as she landed awkwardly.  Caleb practically flew down the wall, eyes wide and scared as he landed next to her. “Beau, do not stand up, let me look at your leg.”  

 

Beau whined, eyes embarrassed and  _ scared,  _ and Caleb paused, fingers hovering over her leg.  “Beauregard.” She rolled awkwardly to one side, eyes falling on Caleb hunched  with wide, scared eyes up against the wall. “Beau,  _ please  _ let me look at your leg?”  Beau’s heart clenches at the absolute  _ fear  _ on his face; she knows that he won’t touch her if she says no and that knowledge lets her relax a little.  “Yeah, Cay, ok.” Caleb’s eyes don’t leave her jaw as he eases her loose pants up, grimacing a little. “Et is not through the skin at least, but I do not like the swelling.”  He explains. Beau grimaces, feeling tears of frustration fill her eyes before she harshly wiped them away.  

 

“Yeah, ok.  Let’s go back.”  Caleb nods, watching Beau slowly stand leaning on her quarterstaff.  He wants to offer to help, badly, but he can’t help but remember the tunnel and the flames and the  _ fear  _ and Beau’s eyes are still so haunted as she stares at him.  “Beauregard.” She flinches away, eyes wide as she sets off for the inn.  Every step was faltering; Caleb wasn’t sure if she’d rebroken the leg or just tweaked it badly, but she was clearly in pain.  After ten minutes and very little progress he sighed, paused, and moved to prop her up against his side.

 

 “Fuck you, I don’t need help.”  Beau wheezes and Caleb pauses, hurt and confusion flashing across his face before he nods briskly and turns back to walking a few steps ahead.  He sped up a little, they were apparently going back to their home, not to the inn, which was pretty fine with her since she assumed the others had likely headed back.  She could hear Caleb talking to one of them, so she sighed, moved down the alley, and boosted herself up onto the wall with her staff. She forced herself to climb, slowly, until she could sling herself over the balcony and slump down against the wall.  “Ow, ow, fucking, ow.” She cursed miserably, tears running down her face now that she was alone.  

 

Caleb retreated to the library, curling up in the corner of the room with his coat draped over his knees and Frumpkin perched on his shoulders purring worriedly.  He forced himself to pay attention to his book, to the cat’s claws needling at his shoulder to ground him. He must’ve dozed off like that, which in itself was a small miracle, because he woke up thrashing, biting down on a desperate scream as he tried to blink away the image of Beau burning from his mind.  It didn’t work, of course; Caleb sometimes  _ despised  _ how good his memory was, and he gagged, curling in on himself and shaking.  

 

Caleb refused to leave the library.  They had a few days off, which was good because it meant they all had time to rest, but bad because it meant that neither Caleb nor Beau had incentive to not hide.  Caleb was tucked into the corner of the library, book resting weakly against his knees. He was exhausted; he was barely sleeping, waking up every hour or so, forcing himself not to start screaming.  Frumpkin was worried, pacing around the other side of the room with his tail thrashing in worry at the miserable look on his master’s face.

 

Beau had waited till her leg stopped feeling as though it was on fire before slowly hauling herself up onto the bed, using her knife to cut her pants off because she was  _ exhausted  _ and getting the pants over her leg did not feel like a good idea.  The leg was swollen badly, and she curled slowly up on her side grimacing in agony.  She propped herself up against the wall, whimpering in pain and reaching to grab her medical kit, hands shaking as she slowly began to splint it, tears staining her shirt as she worked.  As soon as the splint was done she slumped back to her side, face pressed into her hands as she forced the tears back. One hand slowly fished out to find her heavy coat that Caleb had bought her, slowly draping it over her upper body with a low whine, careful not to touch the leg.  

 

She crept to the basement and did not emerge for the next 3 days.  Beau had enough food to last  _ weeks  _ down there, and Jester had gone back to spend a few days at home via Caleb’s teleportation abilities, so she had the room to herself.  She spent most of the time curled up on the cot she’d put there weeks ago. “Stop it.” She cursed, groaning as she stretched her toes out slowly, hissing in pain.  “Gods fucking damn it.” She flapped miserably, desperately wanting to actually  _ move,  _ to spin and fight and  _ hurt  _ something but her throbbing leg wouldn’t let her get up.  

 

On the third day, she hobbled over to the punching bag.  She kept her right leg braced under her as she used her staff.  She couldn’t actually hit the left leg against the punching bag, so she used both hands to strike out at the bag.  It felt good to hit again, at least, though it didn’t feel nearly as good as it usually did. He leaned to one side to grasp the staff and went at it with that, digging the tail of the staff into the ground for balance when she almost fell before continuing at her work.

 

The Caduceus was concerned.  Caleb hadn’t emerged in  _ days,  _ which while concerning wasn’t that odd and so by itself wasn’t a huge cause for concern.  But  _ Beau  _ hadn’t come out, either, and that was far more odd than Caleb hiding.  Caduceus was concerned in his quiet, careful way, but unless there was some sort of sign that one of them was dying he wasn’t going to intrude, no matter how many times a worried Fjord asked him to.  Nott was with Jester in Nicodranas, so she wasn’t around to see if Beau was alright either.  

 

By the end of the 3rd day, Caduceus had enough.  The firbolg was used to siblings having fights; he and his siblings had fought constantly.  But this felt worse than that; Caleb and Beau were both damaged, scarred and abused by circumstances that were, as far as Caduceus was concerned, completely outside of their control.  They were both far too likely to hide in their respective spaces forever and never speak again, and that wasn’t reasonable. So, on the third day, Caduceus stalked into the library.  

 

For a long moment, he didn’t see the human and wondered if he had finally left.  But a soft noise drew his attention to the back corner of the room. His eyes settled on a coat-wrapped bundle, and for a moment he worried that the human was dead before shrugging that thought off; dead people didn’t make noise.  He approached slowly, eyes focusing on Caleb’s frail body. The man didn’t smell good, like sickness and exhaustion. “Mister Caleb?” The man twitched hard, eyes focusing on the firbolg’s face with a whimper. “Oh.” He mumbles, and Caduceus grimaces, because the look on Caleb’s face is  _ concerning.   _ “I am fine, Mister Clay.”  

 

Caduceus actually snorted out a laugh, full of worry as he knelt.  “I’m sorry, but that does not seem true, Mister Caleb. You look sick.”  Caleb flinches away and Caduceus realizes a moment too late that this probably was the wrong line of questioning to pursue when Caleb hauls his legs under himself and forces his way to his feet.  He sways, eyes glazed but legs managing to hold himself up. “Thank you for your concern, Mister Clay, but I am going to bed.” Caduceus hesitates; he wants to stop Caleb, to insist, but there was something desperately fragile in the man’s eyes.  Caduceus turned, realizing perhaps for the first time with this family that he was way, way out of his depth as he went to find someone who he hoped could actually help.

 

He knocks firmly on the door.  A muffled yelp raises his concern but he doesn’t move, allowing a moment before Beau’s muffled voice rings out.  “What the fuck do you want?” Caduceus worried, for a moment, that she had been drinking, but her voice wasn’t as slurred as he thought it ought to be for that.  “Caleb needs you.” There’s a pause, and then the door swings open, revealing beau dressed in nothing but a shirt that went to her knees, leaning on her bo staff.  “Caleb can come to me himself if he needs me. You’re not his messenger boy.” Caduceus raises an incredulous eyebrow and Beau sighs as he speaks again. “If he were in trouble, do you honestly believe that Mister Caleb would actually ask for help?”  

 

Caleb had somehow made it to his bedroom.  He wasn’t sure how, because he didn’t remember it at all, but the bed was soft under his legs.  He wasn’t feeling well at all, shaky and weak as he curled up in a ball, ignoring Frumpkin’s perch on his legs.  The door swinging open didn’t even draw his attention; Caleb didn’t seem to notice Beau there until a hand was resting on his shoulder.

 

After 2 lectures and 4 healing spells on her leg, Caduceus had let Beau go, helping the exhausted girl up the staircase towards the bedrooms.  Caleb’s door was closed and upon opening it, she found the room empty. Caduceus glanced about looking worried, when his eyes settled on the cracked door down the hall.  “Miss Beau.” Beau turned, eyes landing on her door as she gave a sharp nod.  

 

Caleb looked  _ wrecked.   _ He was shivering, face pressed into her pillow as he tried to draw a little comfort from it. Beau grimaced, nudging Caduceus out the door and hobbles to sit on the bed.  Caleb shifts, eyes taking a moment to focus on her face. He cries out, jerking himself forward and pressing his face into her lap with a muffled sob, gasping out “sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, love you, sorry” in frantic Zemnian.  Beau’s eyes widened in concern, one of her hands slowly coming down to touch his hair, sending a panicked look at Caduceus.  

 

The firbolg moved slowly to her side, resting a hand against Caleb’s shoulder.  Caleb didn’t seem to notice, whimpering in pitiful zemnian against Beau’s knees.  Beau grimaced as a hand brushed against his skin, turning to give a quiet “he feels hot” to Caduceus.  The firbolg twisted to press a hand to Caleb’s neck and his face wrinkled with concern. “I am going to go get some cold water I will be right back.”  He vanishes out of the room and leaves Beau staring at the door. 

 

Caleb keeps babbling in frantic zemnian, and Beau is getting more and more concerned.  The still far too thin human is shaking feverishly, and Beau can’t help her suspicion that she knows what he managed to do to himself.  She carefully lowers one hand to his right arm, lifting the arm up gently from where it had been pressed to his body. She can’t stand to look after a heartbeat so she sets his arm back down, leans her head  down so her face is pressed into her hair, and silently curses herself out until Caduceus returned.

 

“Miss Beau?”  Caduceus was growing even more concerned as he saw the way Beau was hunched somewhat protectively over Caleb.  She nearly growled at him as he entered and Caduceus raised both hands in an “I won't hurt you!” gesture. The monk barely seemed calmed by that, still keeping herself between Caleb and him as she gestured for the bowl.  She dipped one of the cloths in it, keeping one hand petting Caleb’s head as she carefully turned his right arm over, causing Caduceus to give another worried gasp.

 

Caleb’s arm was wrapped in tattered bandages, which the shivering wizard had clawed to pieces.  The skin under the bandages was torn and bloody and as Caduceus slowly moved to begin to clean the too-hot flesh, she realized a much, much larger issue that she hadn’t thought about.  

 

Caleb  _ screamed,  _ throwing himself out of his lap and away from her in one smooth motion, back to the wall as he shook. He cried out in zemnian, a frantic “No, please, please do not hurt me, not again.”  Beau grimaced, sending another borderline-hostile look towards Caduceus before reaching forward, doing her best to remember the zemnian she’d been learning. “Caleb. Safe. We are safe.”  Caleb whined, teeth working at his already tattered wrist, and Beau grimaces, automatically switching back to common as she cursed furiously before slowly advancing. “Caleb.” Her voice catches and he whimpers, leaning forward to clumsily grasp for her hand.

 

Caduceus hangs back and just watches.  Beau twists in one careful movement, draws Caleb back into her lap and holds him.  He curls small enough to fit, tears of fear and pain in his eyes, but he lets her take his arm and begin to clean.  “You are safe” She reminds him, reassures him, pressing lips to his forehead like she sometimes saw Molly do. The blood comes away from Caleb’s flesh easily and though Beau knows from experience that this  _ hurts,  _ he doesn’t fight. He lays terrifyingly still again her chest as she works, allowing Beau to wash the blood and pus from his badly inflamed forearms.  

 

Long minutes later, Beau’s cloths were coming up clean.  She turned, beckoning Caduceus with a tilt of her head. Caleb whined and pressed closer to Beau but she ran a hand soothingly over his head and held him still.  Caleb fell quiet once again, as Caduceus slowly reached out and took one arm, beginning to spread ointment over them. Caleb started to thrash as Caduceus worked, crying out miserably until Caduceus  _ had  _ to release him and back up, letting Caleb flop back into Beau’s chest with a whine.  Beau took over, working the ointment over the wounds until Caleb’s arms were coated in the substance.  He wasn’t even  _ trying  _ to fight her; Beau wasn’t sure if it was because he was clearly exhausted or if it was due to the fact that he actually trusted her.

 

Caleb was still awake as Beau worked, letting her slowly wrap his arms in bandages.  Caleb’s eyes flickered to Beau’s face and she lifted one back up to show him, giving a firm “No tearing those back open, Cay, we really need you to not bleed out.”   Caleb whines, one hand raising to paw at Beau’s other shoulder. Beau hums, running her hand over the back of his neck. “C’mon, I’m not sleeping on the floor in my own room, Caleb.”

 

Caduceus watches quietly as Beau hauls herself up, bracing Caleb against her side as his legs buckle the moment they’re up.  She takes careful steps back, waiting for her legs to hit the bed before easing herself down onto the bed. Caduceus stepped forward to help, seeing how much Beau was struggling to get Caleb fully on the bed, but the monk actually swung her head over and  _ growled  _ at him.  Caduceus wasn’t that concerned, he’d spent a lot of time freeing wolves and bears and worse from where they were caught and healing their injuries. Beau stiffened but let Caduceus move, wrapping a long arm under Caleb’s knees and getting him on the bed resting against her side.  

 

It was a very long time before Beau awoke.  Caleb was sitting up, one hand running over the shaved part of her hair as he hummed softly.  Beau let herself rest for another few minutes, hating herself for enjoying this but unable to stop her desperate craving for physical contact.  It was less than five minutes later that she sighed and propped herself up so she was leaning against the wall and Caleb’s hands stilled. “I’m sorry.”  She wasn’t sure why he looked so concerned but she just waved it off. “ ‘s fine, Cay, I know the short section feels nice.” She said with a tired smile.

 

Caleb just nodded, eyes tired as he stared at her hands and she understood.  “Can we talk?” Beau’s voice was low. Caleb froze, hands stilling over the blankets as he gave a stiff nod and Beau kept going, trying to remember that lesson Fjord gave her on apologies.  “I’m sorry man. I was rude and there was no reason for me to yell at you when you were just trying to help.” Caleb gave a confused whine as Beau reached out to grasp one of his shaking hands.  “I, I, I am sorry.” Caleb mumbled. “I should have asked before I tried to grab you.” Caleb clung to her hands, eyes full of confusion as he tucked himself into her side, snapping his fingers and summoning Frumpkin to his side.  

 

They sit in silence for a moment, before Beau slowly reaches forward and taps his hand once more.  “Caleb.” He turns a little, eyes at least  _ closer  _ to her face, and she can’t stop herself from speaking again.  “I know I fucked up and that’s my fault Caleb, but this? That’s not okay man you can  _ not  _ lock yourself away and hurt yourself.”  Caleb ducked his head down, pressing further into Beau’s side with a sharp whine.  “I was not trying to hurt myself, Beauregard.” His voice was shaky and miserable but Beau couldn’t help but be confused.

 

“Ok...so...if you weren’t trying to hurt yourself then what was your goal?”  She questioned aloud, but Caleb didn’t speak so she kept thinking aloud. “I mean, I don’t...what else would your goal even be I mean all you were doing was” and then she got it, horrified eyes flickering down to stare at him.  “pain.” Caleb gave a sharp shake of his head, forcing one hand away from his mouth as he gave a sharp “I didn’t want to sleep.” Beau’s hand fell, pressing into his shoulder, something scared on her face, and Caleb pressed his shoulder to hers in something resembling a comforting manner.

 

Beau sighed, turning to rest her head against Caleb’s shoulder, one hand flapping tiredly against her knee.  “Ok. I get that man, but in the future...maybe try talking to one of us? I know you don’t like sleeping alone, but Caddy and Fjord and Molly and I were all still here, ok?”  Just...please, try and let us help?” Caleb gives a shaky nod, snuggling into Beau’s side with a soft whine as his shaking hands wrapped tight around Beau’s and for a moment, they sat together in silent peace.  


End file.
